


Most Faithful Mirror

by Arcadias_Fire



Series: Seeking Mischief [3]
Category: British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Magic, Mythology - Freeform, Time Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 10:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14767649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcadias_Fire/pseuds/Arcadias_Fire
Summary: It took him a few seconds to realize the mirror image of himself crouched in front of him was neither an hallucination nor a product of malfunctioning magic. The frozen time poured out from the figure, ripples in a pond.Loki’s voice cracked in his ears. “Who?”“You know who I am.” The duplicate spoke with his own voice.Loki smiled at the other. “Actually, I don’t. There are too many possibilities.”"I am Loki."With a broken heart and tenuous sanity, Loki must face the inevitable. No one can help him now, so he'll just have to help himself.





	Most Faithful Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to Dreaming of Mischief and probably won't make sense without having read it.

Loki knew he was doomed.

He’d been trying to avoid this, but he supposed it must inevitable. That’s what Tom had been  struggling to tell him. That his death awaited him. What bothered Loki the most was that he’d walked right into the most obvious trap, lured in like a fool, and abandoned everything he’d ever cared about in the process.

He’d been trying to do the right thing. For once.

Look where it got him.

He didn’t think it was even Thanos who had sent the dream that lured him back. Loki had no idea who _had_ sent it, but the Titan showed no sign that he’d realized that Loki had even been gone - with the Tesseract - in another universe.

No. Instead the warlord had killed half of everyone on the ship. Or had his Children do it for him. Leaving only Loki, his brother, and a scant few others alive in the main hall.

Loki had returned to the ship with a broken heart and tenuous sanity, and neither of those conditions was getting any better. Far from it. He watched, an impassive mask on his face as they died, but inside, he was breaking, breaking, broken.  

_I’m sorry._ He cast the thought out from himself. Drew on the power of the Tesseract, just briefly. He stood surrounded by death, and all he could think about was the life he left behind. _My beloved, I’m so sorry I left you. I was wrong. I’m sorry I’m sorry. I love you. Goodbye._

The Tesseract sang to him from it’s space in his pocket dimension, and _reached._

Perhaps the message had gone through? But no, he could feel it fall short. Another splinter in his heart.

And Oh Norns, the situation around him grew worse. The Titan was going to torture Thor to death before his eyes. Love and hate in his soul warred, but even as he watched the battle, he knew the outcome. Love would win. 

He’d learned love so well by now.

So he let the cube go. Saved his brother/lover/beloved. Watched as his plans fell apart, one by one. To the doom of everyone else.

Especially himself.

A moment of confusion followed, and he seized the opportunity to run. It was pointless. He knew it was. But he was who he was, and he couldn’t let the chance slip by.

He stumbled down the corridor and crouched in the wreckage, breathing hard, heart pounding in his chest.

Then everything stopped.

The moans of pain, the smoke in the air, the sound of fighting nearby.

 

Everything. Just. Stopped.

 

It took him a few seconds to realize the mirror image of himself crouched in front of him was neither an hallucination nor a product of malfunctioning magic. The frozen time poured out from the figure, ripples in a pond.

Loki’s voice cracked in his ears. “Who?”

“You know who I am.” The duplicate spoke with his own voice.

Loki smiled at the other. “Actually, I don’t. There are too many possibilities.” It was true. There were an infinite number of Lokis in the multiverse, including many who merely shared his name or his form, and were not actually him in any meaningful way.

One in particular was very precious to him and very very far away. _Oh beloved, I’m sorry._

The mirror Loki sat on the floor in front of him. “I am Loki.”

_Not him_. Loki's heart broke a little more, but he kept his smile. “Obviously. Which one? Me from another universe? The future? I wouldn’t have though I had one of those anymore, but you do seem to have some skill at manipulating time …” He waved a hand at the stillness around them, and his smile brightened. “Please be specific.”

Not-Loki tilted his head to the side, his face strangely blank. “You're quite mad, aren't you?”

Loki laughed. “Possibly. At the moment, it’s even likely.”

The mirror image contemplated him silently, unmoving. He stared back. Everything around them stayed perfectly still. It appeared that they had all the time in the realms.

This went on for some minutes.

“Why have you ensnared the mortal called Thomas Hiddleston?”

Loki's heart, so damaged already, fractured still further. The remaining part of his sanity wasn't far behind. That was the last thing he expected to hear. This strangeness in front of him, this impossible being, it had nothing at all to do with the Mad Titan assaulting the universe? This was about...Tom?

All thoughts of the death and destruction behind him fled from Loki’s mind, and this became the most important thing in existence. “I didn't _ensnare_ him.”

“There are lines of fate wrapping my priest's heart, and they are bound to you. Why have you done this?”

“Your… what?”

“My priest and avatar.”

Loki blinked rapidly. “He is my beloved.”

Not-Loki scoffed. “I think not.”

“How dare you!” Loki tried to get to his feet, but his legs refused to obey him. Too much adrenaline. Too much pain. “What right have you to make claim to him?”

“I created him.”

“What?”

Not-Loki closed his eyes and brought his fingers up to his temples. “I think, Reflection, that we speak across one another. As you say, we are from different universes. What did you do to wrap fate around my… around Thomas?”

“I severed my connection to him. I had to in order to keep him safe. But it didn’t matter anymore, and I... I missed him… I wanted to say goodbye. So I reached out through space and dimensions with the Tesseract. To speak to him one last time.” Loki looked down at the floor. “It was foolish, and did not work.”

“I believe you missed your target.”

Loki looked back up with a snap. “Missed?”

“You laid claim the wrong man. My avatar has only me.” Mirror-Loki pressed a hand against his own leather clad chest. “If there are many Lokis, why cannot there be many Thomases?”

Loki’s mouth fell open. “He and I are the same, echoes in different realms. He _is_ Loki.”

The other god frowned. “You are not from the same universe?”

Loki tilted his head. “That's probably the only reason he's still alive.”

Not-Loki sat back. “He and I exist in the same universe. As I said, I created him.”

“Why?”

“To be me, of course.”

Loki laughed. “And I thought I was mad.”

Not-Loki glared at him. “You and I are not the same kind of creature. Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do.”

“No? What are you?”

“A God.”

“So am I.”

“No. You are a god.”

Loki blinked. He could actually hear the difference. “What does that mean?”

“You eat food and drink wine. Fall in love and fornicate. I need do none of these things, though I chose - on occasion - for my pleasure to indulge.” Not-Loki grinned. “I am from beyond this plane of existence.”

Loki tossed his hands in the air. “Fine, you’re from another plane, and you’re powerful. What does this have to do with me?”

Not-Loki glared at him. “I have told you. You ensnared my priest.”

“Who you created.”

“Yes.”

“So you _ensnared_ him first.”

Not-Loki’s eyes went wide and he rocked back.

Loki grinned. “He has no option but to be with you. My Tom _chose_ me.”

“You _dare."_

Loki laughed. “I dare a great many things, not the least of which is to torment myself.”

The other narrowed his eyes. “I should kill you where you sit.”

“You would be doing me a favor,” Loki snarled. “There is a good chance I will die a slow, extremely painful death very shortly. Even if I survive, I will never see my beloved again. And you, _you_ are moaning about psychic ties that do nothing to interfere with your enjoyment of your _priest_.”

“He is mine,” the other hissed. “You have no right…”

“Neither do you!”

Not-Loki’s hands balled into quivering fists, eyes bleeding green fire. “Remove your ties to my priest,” he hissed.

“No.”

“What?”

Loki smiled, wild and mad. “I shall not. I have as much a right to him as you.”

The next thing he knew, the other’s hand was tight around his neck. “I could kill you with no effort at all.”

Loki cleared his throat and the hand loosened slightly. “Are you willing to risk that my death won’t harm you precious priest?” The other’s eyes went wide again. “Besides, as I said, you’d be doing me a favor. I do not fear death. We are old friends.”

Not-Loki’s hand tightened on his throat, squeezing until he couldn’t breathe, until his vision darkened, until spots clouded the darkness.

Loki smiled.

At least the Titan wouldn’t have the chance to kill him.

And then he was shoved back against the wall. _Into_ the wall, leaving a dent in the metal of the damaged ship. Not-Loki snarled in his face. Loki laughed. It was a terrible wheezing thing that barely left his lips, but he laughed.

_I have nothing to lose and you have everything to protect. Do you really believe you can intimidate me?_

Then he was free. Great gulps of air filled his lungs.

He laughed again.

“You win, Reflection. What do you want?”

Loki breathed for a moment before speaking. “Let him choose.”

“What?”

“Allow your priest to decide if he wishes to serve you or not. I will sever all of my ties to him and you shall do the same. Then he can choose if he wishes to remain tied to you or be free of us.”

Not-Loki looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Why?”

“He deserves it.”

Not-Loki blinked. “You do not desire to see your beloved again?”

“Of course I do, but I cannot.”

The other raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

“Do you agree?”

Not-Loki bowed his head. “I do.”

“Swear it.”

“I, Loki Flamebearer, swear by My Flame and Fire, by the passion of My worship, that I shall release my priest and avatar Thomas William Hiddleston of his service to Me, that he may choose freely and of his own will.”

It was an oath he’d never heard before, but Loki could feel the truth of it and its binding. “I, Loki Silvertongue do so swear upon the heads of my fathers and mothers that I shall release your priest and avatar from the encircling fate which I have cast upon him.”

Not-Loki brought his hands together. “So mote it be.”

“Let it be done.” Loki bowed his head and searched in his mind for the connection he thought he’d failed to associate with his beloved - he _had_ failed, just not in the way he’d assumed - and found it. It _ached._  He could feel the nearly-familiar mind at the other end of the link. He wanted to reach out along it. Wanted to touch the mind of his almost-beloved - just one last moment - but he’d sworn...

With a swift mental slice, he cut through the link. It was nothing like as painful as when he’d ripped his connection to Tom from his mind before, but it still hurt. It was only when he opened his eyes again that he realized that he was crying.

The other Loki wore a tight, pained expression, brows drawn down, lips pursed as he watched his reflection. “How did you do that to yourself? How?”

“Desperation,” he croaked back. “If I didn’t, he would have been killed.”

Not-Loki turned away.

“Appreciate what you have. It can all be taken away all too easily.” Loki cleared his throat. “He _will_ choose you. And when he does, take care of him.”

“I shall.” The other dropped his head, then looked back up at Loki. “Is there nothing I can do for you?”

Loki shrugged. “I do not wish to die, but I do not see a way out of this. The best I can hope for is to make my death worthwhile.”

Not-Loki inclined his head. “That is admirable, but unnecessary.” He leaned forward and pulled Loki into a kiss. The trickster could feel magic flowing into him, hot and alien through his lips. It reminded him of kissing Tom, but a thousand times stronger, a tsunami next to a stream.The other god pulled away and looked down at him. “I grant you this power. When the time comes, you will know what to do.”

Loki blinked. “I… thank you.”

Not-Loki nodded and got to his feet. “It’s what _he_ would want.”

Loki nodded and wiped away his tears with the backs of his hands. “He is my compassion.”

The other nodded. “Goodbye, Loki Silvertongue.”

“Goodbye, Loki Flamebearer. Take good care of your priest.”

“I shall.”

The next instant, Loki was alone. Or perhaps he had been alone the whole time? He touched his lips with trembling fingertips. They were warm and burned with seidr. He could feel something at the pit of his stomach, but he couldn’t quite reach it. Not yet, but he felt it stirring.  

Loki slumped to his side, lay still across the cold floor.

 

Then time started up again. Screaming from the other room. Thor shouting. Then silence.

_I have to do something._

That was his compassion speaking, of course.

Maybe Tom wasn’t so far away after all.

Loki got to his feet, and walked back towards the now silent hall. The new magic burned in his gut like an inferno and a plan formed in his mind. The time had come, and he knew what to do.

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, someone absolutely said "crossover". 
> 
> I actually wrote most of this before IW and had to change relatively little to make it work. It was always my intention for Loki to "save himself", I just didn't know from what.
> 
> I did intentionally make Loki’s oath different than in IW, since it seems likely he never intended that one to be binding and was just monologuing to buy time. 
> 
> The title is taken from “Teardrop” by Massive Attack


End file.
